The Locket (42 page)

We spent most of Saturday on the beach looking over all of the stones, collecting our favorites. I made a point of not getting too close to the water remembering how cold it was. I laughed at the memory of the last time I was here when Brent hoisted me over his shoulder and carried me back to the house. I caught Brent’s blue eyes on mine and could tell by the smile on his face he was having the same memory.

As the day drew to a close, Will started up a huge bonfire and we all gathered around for a lobster bake. We stuffed ourselves with seafood and corn until, admittedly, we were at a point where we might need to roll each other upstairs if we didn’t stop soon. Of course, that feeling didn’t stop any of us from devouring Maggie’s famous chocolate chip cookies afterwards.

We spent the rest of the night huddling around the fire talking. Layken sat in between Logan’s legs with her back against his chest. He was playing with her hair and she was smiling. I was beyond proud of him. He had overcome his demons and found someone to complete him. He had spoken with his parents, telling them why he was leaving to live with his uncle. About a week later, his dad joined him at a support meeting for alcoholics and had been attending twice a week since. Logan said his dad was holding strong and had quit drinking. It was my hope that he continued to face his own wrongs in life, and one day, he and Logan could have a relationship that a father and son should have.

Reese sat next to me with Brooke on his lap. The two of them had been inseparable and I had become very close to her. I owed her so much. Without her gift to enhance our abilities, Brent would not have been able to trap Kace. The outcome could have been very different. She adored Reese as much as I did, impulsiveness and all.

Reese never spoke to his parents about his mother’s affair. I imagined it was hard for him, but I respected his decision to keep it from them. I hoped he would find the courage to do so in the future. Those kinds of things have a way of coming out eventually and it would be better for his dad to hear it from Reese. For now, it was a secret shared with this small group of friends that were eternally bonded.

We hadn’t heard from Omni since that fateful night, but I knew it was just a matter of time. As scary as our previous hunt was, I felt anticipation stewing in all of us to do it again.

Brent and I had grown closer after our one night together. I finally understood what it meant to find yourself in another person. It was a completion, guiding you every day of your life down your designed path. I wanted to make love with him again but he kept telling me he wanted to marry me first. I teased him relentlessly saying we had that backwards, but he was persistent, and I eventually agreed to become his wife. I would give that to him because he needed it. We hadn’t set a date yet, but I was hoping for right after graduation.

Today was Sunday. We were gathered around the large flat screen in the great room to watch the Patriots play the Raiders. This weekend marked my final puzzle piece; friendship, a bond shared, surrendering trust in them in a way I never thought I was capable of. I missed my parents every day, but I was forever grateful for the gift they had left me. Their spirits created me, attaching me to my new family with friendships sealed so strongly, I knew it could never be broken.

I was chatting with Maggie when I suddenly heard Reese and Logan shouting over the group.

“Dude, did you see that?” Reese yelled, throwing his hand in the air to high-five Logan.

“Hell yeah, I did. That was sick,” Logan yelled before slapping Reese’s hand.

“What, what happened?” I asked loudly, trying to be heard over the testosterone-filled grunting in the room.

“Wilfork just got a pick six,” Logan shouted.

“You’ve got to see this, Claire. Here, check out the replay,” Reese added. “Look at that! Who knew he could run that fast?”

I smiled, remembering the last time Brent and I were here. We discussed football and I offered him a little wager on whether or not Wilfork would have an interception and run it back for a touchdown. I believe Brent said there was greater chances of seeing pigs fly.

I pursed my lips and looked at Brent who was sitting on the couch. He was looking back at me with a wicked smile. “Pay up, Cassidy. I don’t see any pigs flying,” I teased without actually speaking. We learned we could communicate using our minds and practiced it a lot lately. It became our secret way to flirt with one another and I found it incredibly intimate.

Brent’s smile grew wide. I heard his reply in my mind. “Someone cheated, Blake,” he suggested, winking at me.

My cheeks blushed and I bowed my head hoping he wouldn’t see. I never actually told him I had seen the plays in my head during our conversation. My visions had just started and I was not entirely sure at the time that’s what it was.

“The big man’s got skills,” I teased.

The crowd let out a unison gasp and I smiled wickedly, finally free from his control.

Jolting upright in my bed, I was panting as sweat rolled down the sides of my face. Looking to my left, I saw Brent was still sleeping peacefully next to me, his chestnut brown hair folded over his ears. Sucking in a bottomless breath to calm the panic, I hung my legs over the side of the bed and wiped the sweat from my face.

It was the same dream I had every night for the last week. Analyzing the dream repeatedly, I failed to decide what it meant.

Nausea was swirling in my stomach and I bolted for the bathroom knowing I was going to throw up, again. I had been sick for over a week now. Ever since returning from the beach house, Brent had tried to convince me to see a doctor. But being stubborn as usual, I refused to go.

Hunching over the toilet, I released the spaghetti Maggie had made for dinner. Hearing Brent enter the bathroom, I looked up at him, a stray noodle hung from my mouth.

“Please, go away, Brent,” I requested, turning back to the bowl, mortified that he was once again witnessing me hugging the toilet.

I felt him kneel behind me. He tenderly pulled my hair from the sides of my face, gathering it behind my head. He held it in place while I continued to heave.

“Claire, I think it’s time to see a doctor,” he suggested, treading carefully over each word.

Mentally, I played tug of war with my opposing thoughts. Half of me agreed with him and half of me wanted to hurt him.

I spun around to face him. “I said get out of here, goddammit!” I shouted, shoving my hands into his chest.

Screaming horrifically, he fell back onto the floor. He lay there, shaking, smoke coming from his seared t-shirt.

What the hell just happened?

My brain told me to go to him, to heal him, but instead, I sat wordlessly and smirked at him.

“Claire?”